Melton and Canaris were close behind, and together they went up into the vast expanse of the cavern. Under foot was hard, compact sand, and in a moment more the glare of the lamp was reflected on running water, and they stood on the brink of the mysterious underground river.
“We have found it?” exclaimed Canaris exultingly. “The Englishman was right.”
It was impossible to judge of the width of the stream. It might be very narrow and it might be very broad. The flowing water made not a sound, and yet the current was swift, for a bit of paper that Melton tossed in was snatched from sight immediately.
As they gazed on this strange sight with emotions that it would be impossible to describe, a vague, shadowy object passed down the stream and vanished in the darkness.
“There goes that fellow,” cried Guy. “He has escaped in a canoe,” and hastening up along the shore, waving the lamp in front of him, he uttered a cry of astonishment that echoed through the cavern and brought his companions quickly to his side.
Drawn back a few yards from the water lay two long, heavy canoes, and a sharp furrow in the sand leading to the river’s edge showed that a third canoe had recently stood beside the others. Half a dozen rude paddles were strewn on the sand. The savage had evidently been in such haste to escape that the thought of turning the other canoes adrift, and thus eluding pursuit, never entered his head.
Beyond the canoes, further progress was blocked by masses of eaith.
“This was the abode of that strange race of natives,” said Guy solemnly, “and under those stones they have lain buried since the earthquake years ago.”
He turned and led the way down the stream.
Fifteen yards below lay another jutting mass of earth. This was the extent of the cavern, a beach fifty yards long running back to the narrow passage and terminated by walls of earth; beyond was darkness and the river, running none knew where.